Wow, this took way too long to get up here. I really wasn't kidding when I said school killed your free time…heh. In any case for those of who aren't completely exasperated with me by now…here's the next chapter of Kaeptiv'.
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Chapter 10: Une Réalité Signent Le GrisGeorge De'Sand knew it by now. Walking around the muted streets of the third district of Neo-France he knew it like the darkness of his own shadow defined by another mock-oil lamp. His conscience was being played like the taught string of a yo-yo; coiled, tight tension ridden, and then to a loosened in a depression that made him feel drained.
He had to convince himself, again, that he had done the right thing. A task not easily done when two or three cold glares stared him down from behind: a kick to an already injured dog, more or less.
Looking behind him, Chibodee's dislike for the Frenchman's actions was painfully obvious. The shrew American walked his face armed with a glare and his leather cowboy boots made the loudest sound for miles at this hour of the night. He would have looked funny on any other occasion, if it weren't for the ice he held in his normally joking eyes.
Argo made no point to look anywhere at George, and instead, chose to set his stony façade far ahead of them. He and Natasha had been talking in heated low tones ever since visiting the Princess with such a disabling darkness in her heart. And since then, Argo had not looked at him once; George knew this to be how the gruff Russian gave respect to his companions. George missed the acknowledgement more than he thought he would.
As for Domon, the Shuffle Alliance leader, the King of Hearts, perhaps the person the Rose Knight respected most out of anyone, he was quiet. Quiet of all things: Domon Kasshu. It didn't really sit well with anyone. The newly engaged Japanese couple had been the first to arrive, and, ironically, the most split on their take of George's decision.
Rain held firm in the belief that George should stay with Marie-Louise and immediately apologize for driving the warm-hearted Monarch to such a state. Rain's stand was based on her deep feelings of loyalty, friendship, and a genuine care for George's once-charge. Domon on the other hand, tried his damnedest to see why, generally, the most sensible of the group, as he put it, would do something like that to the person Domon knew he would give his life for.
Domon was split in every sense of the word, he could see what lead George to do it, and why, in a desperate way, it made sense. But, and this was a major but, he told George, "I thought you knew, it couldn't come this…shouldn't have come to this at all." He had sighed raggedly glancing from the wall and back to George again, "Mirebeau is dangerous…but he is one man: Marie-Lousie is your…" He paused, "Should be what wakes you up in the morning: life. That's what Rain is to me…" He paused, trying to not to stumble when saying something so important, "I thought…wasn't that? Isn't that what she is to you?" George had been floored. Never had he expected the King of Hearts, despite the irony in him being called so, to be saying the things he was.
The silence that followed was thick, choking, where George could feel the pound of his heart in his ears, his mind racing in confusion, in a desperate search for answers. But George had none to give…he had lost the clarity of emotion he once held in his heart. How had the warmth he held for her have become so unreachable, so unclear, so quickly?
Receiving no answer, Domon spoke with a bite in his words, "Before, before you would have answered me right away: Hai." He held a look in his eye as if ready to fight the Rose Knight, but simply said, "I don't know why the hell Mirebeau's back, but I do know you've lost something. You look like shit: you look like I did when Rain left with her father to space. It took me awhile to find out just exactly what that was, and I regret every minute of my stupidity."
He put a hand on George's shoulder, "I hope you figure it out sooner than I did. And because of that, I'll help you hunt down Mirebeau."
That had been a whole twenty-four hours ago, and Domon's words still struck him just as harshly. Out of all the glares, the silences, that speech had probably hurt the most.
Because he now knew it was true, he let out a shallow breath as he turned again. The truth was the hardest to hear, Marie-Louise had told him that once. He just hadn't believed it then.
With his three companions following him in a maddening silence, their presence sapping him of his conviction as much as his own guilt, he came to a sudden stop. And looked aimlessly around for minute, gathering his bearings. And if he hadn't…he probably would have never seen the gray, nearly translucent figure blending in with the darkness, maybe twenty feet ahead.
He held a shaky gloved hand to pause his staid companions. His breath caught in his throat suddenly and he felt as if he had swallowed cotton: the dryness in mouth was certainly there for it to be so.
"What gives Frenchy? I—." George silenced him with a jittery wave of his hand, and Chibodee raised an eyebrow for sarcasm more than confusion. Argo merely gave a stiff pointed nod to the figure in the distance only blinking when Chibodee mouthed an "oh…"
It was then that Domon appeared at the Rose Knight's side, analyzing the figure for all it was worth in the low light. Squinting slightly, he gave a bitingly clear whisper to George, "We don't know for sure…not yet…" A pause of calculating hesitation, another rapid glance, "Anyone, could be anyone."
"At this hour of morning? Whether it be he, or not, it doesn't make for a clean slate." George whispered back unable to mask the restrained haste in his voice. He no longer cared to play the detective, now was the time for action he was certain. The adrenaline coursing through his veins, spreading with the heat of wildfire and the vibrant buzz of tension was enough to tell him so.
Argo merely grunted lowly as Chibodee bluntly broke the seconds worth of a pause. "Whatever, whatever, all I know is while we stand here arguing about yes's and no's he gonna…" The stunned American blanched as what he was about to say came to life before him,
"…run, run away…RUN AWAY! He's getting AWAY!"
George burst forth like a mad thing as Chibodee's voice cut through the thick silence in the street, shredding through the peaceful calm. The wild gesticulations of the American were the last thing he saw as he gave a half-glance backward and followed the panicked figment in the blurred labyrinth he only cognitively recognized.
George saw the man as clearly ahead of him as he would have heard the distinctive ring of a crystal wineglass. The residual hum stuck within him, driving him forward. It was just the two of them now, in a chase against attrition, time, and the inky gray of the French streets.
That's all for now folks, I wanted to get this chapter up as fast as humanly possible, so, there are no French translations except for the title, which means:
Une Réalité Signent Le Gris: A Reality Check in the Gray
A sincere thank you to those who continue to review and get me off my butt (and distracted from schoolwork as the case may be, but not that I mind….) and continue doing what I love best: fanfiction.
And now a parting quote from my dear friend:
"When life gives you lemons: write fanfiction."
G.F.
Many thank you's,
Emerald-Velvet-Touch